Work Text:
Kevin stands on a sidewalk in New York, wearing a white and blue varsity jacket. His hair is windswept, and he crosses his arms behind his back as if shy, but he has his calm, collected, interview face on. Brianna Morales is a good interviewer, he knows this, and there’s no reason to be nervous but still his stomach trills with butterflies.
He was invited to do her podcast-Instagram-show-thing a few months ago after his professional Exy career took off in Washington, D.C., but he hadn’t had a game in New York until now. It wasn’t too cold in the city yet, only a targeted breeze from the windchambers of a concrete jungle. He’d grown used to the relative quiet of D.C. and now as cars honked, and people stammered by, he found himself easily distracted.
“Don’t worry,” Brianna says, her energy comforting. Her hair is slicked back, and she wears a long beige skirt and a white top. “You’ll be able to tune it out once we start talking.”
He only nods, a lump in his throat.
Neil and Andrew had given him a hard time about agreeing to do the show, but Kevin’s agent said the press would be good for him. More positive press. Right now, the majority of what was online was pictures of him wasted at clubs, and whispering into his former teammates’ ears suggestively.
“Come on,” Neil had said the last time they visited D.C. for a game, and an impromptu party Andrew had somehow looped them into. “Anyone can answer that question in a second just by looking at you.”
“Hey!” he had replied defensively, but he didn’t have another counterargument. Doing a show called, “Are You Okay?” probably would not help his reputation all that much. But it was worth a shot. At least he wasn’t tipsy–or even hungover–now.
Her cameraman is adjusting his tripod, making sure the vertical phone is straight.
The brunette smiles, chunky pink microphone held underneath her chin. “Okay, Kevin. Let’s do this thing.”
She gestures to the cameraman. He counts down. Three, two, one.
The traffic seems to immediately die down as they start their interview, though the city still smells like cigarette smoke and stale hotdogs.
“What is a hill you’re willing to die on?” Brianna asks with her brilliant smile.
Kevin grins. He knows the answer to this one, easy. “Exy is the best sport in the NCAA.”
She raises an eyebrow, an invitation for him to elaborate. People in the comments will go crazy debating over it. Good engagement.
“Baseball is trying to keep up with all their new rules and pitch clocks, but boring is as boring goes. And don’t get me started on football. It’s all physical. Exy takes talent, intellect, and physicality.”
“Hope you don’t have any football friends,” she mutters playfully. Kevin definitely does not. “What keeps you up at night?”
He goes pale, mind flashing to the red and black darkness of the Nest and Exy sticks smacking against his ribs.
She winces directly at the question, as if remembering all the rumors surrounding Edgar Allan. “Ah–wrong question to ask.”
Kevin keeps his expression calm. How can he play this off? “No, uh–I’d say soft pillows. Hotel pillows. Yeah. Those things suck.”
Brianna nods. “Oh yeah, totally. Give me a tough, cold pillow any day.”
Yeah, sureee, everyone in the comments will say, then leave some snarky comment about how Kevin used to be a Raven. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Edgar Allan’s program was dead now–cancelled after all the scandals, but people still couldn’t seem to get over it. In their defense, Kevin hadn’t either, but at least he was trying.
Kevin is forced to move on from that train of thought, though, as Brianna asks her next question: “Who is on your hear me out cake?”
Kevin hesitates, turning slightly red. He knew this question was a possibility when he was watching other videos to prepare for filming. The hear me out cake was the equivalent of a hall pass, except more unhinged. Interviewees usually picked fictional characters.
“Uh–who is that lion–from the Lion King?” Kevin stammers.
“Nala? Scar?” Brianna supposes, laughing, but playing it off quickly in case Kevin doesn’t want to answer.
“Yeah, that one,” Kevin says abashed. To be honest, he’d pick either.
She carries on smoothly, sensing his unwillingness to speak any more on the subject. “If you could get another tattoo, what would it be?”
He gestures to his covered arms, thinking about the flames on Wymack’s. “Maybe something on the back of my arms.” He looks into the camera coyly, knowing someone online will ask– “But not another face tattoo.”
“What is the best date you’ve ever been on?”
Kevin flounders for an answer. His thoughts flash to all the evenings he had spent on the couch with Andrew and Neil at Palmetto. He’d never tell them, but he missed being in college with them. Having those rare, normal moments that didn’t revolve around his performance on the court.
“I love takeout, you know?” Kevin says. “Just staying in, watching a game. Boring, predictable, I know. I like it when it’s just us.” He shrugged, holding up his hands innocently, abashed. “I’m consistent, if nothing else.”
She laughs and nods.
Hopefully no one online would read too far into that. They didn’t need to know he had, kinda, two boyfriends. Plus, think about all the press pieces that would spin off it. Who is professional Exy player Kevin Day dating? They’d never be able to figure it out, though. At least his fans would enjoy speculating. Better press than alcoholism for sure.
But hey, he hadn’t done too bad on the show so far. Nothing overly incriminating and overall, he was on-brand with both the show and his own reputation. It somehow aligned with both his chipped edges and his polished celebrity persona.
“What is something you wish people knew about you?” she asks to conclude.
Kevin flashes his paparazzi-worthy smile at the camera, knowing it brings out his chesspiece cheek tattoo and his green eyes. “I’ve always been Number One.”
Brianna pauses, keeping her expression amused.
“My verdict is in.” Brianna grins. “You are not okay.”